Razor Blades
by vilyasthrall
Summary: Argus Filch is forced to venture outside of the safety of Hogwarts in order to make some purchases. Unfortunately, the muggle world changes faster than he can keep up. One-shot.


**Razor-Blades**

_Disclaimer: J K Rowling, Warner Bros and other copyright holders own Harry Potter and other characters and setting. I do not, unfortunately._

Filch hated leaving the realm of magic. Well, to be fair, he hated setting foot outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at all. Unfortunately, since Filch was a... magicless wizard... and unable to do charms that normal people took for granted, he occasionally needed to venture out into the ever-changing Quodpotch field that was the muggle world.

He'd already got a headache trying to negotiate with the goblins at Gringotts for money, and it felt like he'd only just got the hang of shillings and now the muggle money system had changed. He didn't ask anyone for help on these trips- most wizards would be worse than useless, and he was certainly too proud to ask any muggleborn students for assistance. Not that, as he would have admitted privately, he had much to be proud about.

After only a few relatively-minor mishaps, Filch finally found a likely-looking shop. It was called 'Boots,' and, despite the name, it certainly had enough self-care potions on display in the windows for it to seem probable that they'd stock some razor. Or a razor, at least.

After some time searching, Filch finally found the diminutive 'mens' aisle. He wondered if the muggles had now made it illegal for men to buy women's products, and mused that that would make it rather awkward to but gifts if it was so. He still couldn't see anything that looked like his razor.

After a few minutes of self-serving procrastination, Filch eventually turned to the nearest muggle, reasoning that she would know what to do.

He tried to politely ignore her outrageous clothes. "Can you tell me where I can find the razors?" he asked.

She stared at him, as if he was the weird one and then pushed a pair of metal earmuffs over her head and walked off. Filch glared at her back. At least he'd made an effort to look like he fitted in with muggle society, he thought irritably. She obviously had not.

After a few more seconds wasted trying to decide who to accost next, Filch stumbled over to the cashier's desk. The man who sat there wore a sort of half-uniform, with his forearms exposed, so Filch guessed he was an employee. He wore a blue badge which read, 'Hello I am Colin- how can I help you today.'

Filch eyed the cheery badge suspiciously, remembering some less innocuous ones, but since it appeared to be an invitation to conversation, he decided he should take it seriously. "Colin," he said, not sure if he should be addressing the badge or the man, "where can I find razors?"

The man- Colin, apparently- looked up and gestured to the shelves that Filch had just visited.

"Yes," Filch spat, "but where are they there?"

'Colin' didn't seem particularly inclined to be helpful, but due to some law or social convention, he stood. Filch was not in the mood to spare him from grief, especially since he was still trying to work out if Gringotts had short-changed him or not- he'd never been sure if they believed their promise not to cheat wizards extended to squibs.

So when 'Colin' pointed to a rack of what the caretaker had assumed were complicated toothbrushes, Filch was not terribly impressed.

He spat at the floor. "Do you have any normal razors?" he asked venomously, twisting his heel in the yellow phlegm as if trying to get a particularly nasty stain out of the glittery floor.

Colin stared mutely at his foot.

Filch grunted.

"Normal?" Colin asked, his gaze not moving. He sounded like a stunned first year, and Filch realized that he didn't look too much older. Seventeen or eighteen, so only just of age. Some of the worst years.

"Aye, normal!" Filch bit back. "Normal, as in, handle, blade, sharpening block bit."

"Oh," Colin said dumbly. "No, sir."

Filch sighed. "Look, can you tell me where does, then?" he asked. "Right. Where does your father buy his razor?"

Colin continued to stare.

Filch was beginning to feel very muggle-weary, and started to mentally tick off the seconds until he sided with Lucius Malfoy in his crusade to wipe out all wizard-muggle interactions completely. "Fine," he said, twisting on his lubricated heel. "I'm going. I'll just get Albus to buy me one for Christmas, after all."

And on that satisfying note, Argus took his leave and went back to the wizarding world.


End file.
